If another had shot Mr Burns
by Burns-Secret-Fantasy
Summary: Based on the episode "Who Shot Mr. Burns", this fanfic is the possibility if one other than Maggie had shot Mr. Burns, and the aftermath. Pairings consist of - BurnsxSmithers, BartxJessica. Tell me - who do you think did it this time?
1. Chpt 1 The rising sun

I do not own The Simpsons or any characters in this story.

Enjoy.

Suspects:

Waylon Smithers - Mr. Burn's loyal assistant\friend who crushes on him deeply.

Homer Simpson - The lazy employee of Mr. Burns. Burns can never remember his name.

Bart Simpson - The hooligan child who loves to cause mayhem.

Lisa Simpson - A smart creative girl who is very sweet and quirky.

Princapal Skinners - A middle aged principal who still lives with his mother.

Moe Schyzlack - A short-tempered bar-tender who is quite violent and threatening.

Barney Grumble - A drunk beer addict who visits Moe's bar daily.

Sideshow Bob - A crinimal mastermind who has gotten arrested for attempted murder.

Grounds Keeper Willy - The scottish groundskeeper of Springfield Elementary school with a bad temper.

Abraham Simpson - Homer Simpson's father who is very senile and living in a retirment home.

_June 1st_

_Location - Springfield's powerplant, Mr. Burn's office._

"Smithers, give me my newspaper."

C. Montgomery Burns. Described by most citizens of Springfield as the greedy, cranky, power-hungery owner of Springfield's powerplant. The same powerplant that killed Smither's wifeless father from radiation exposion when he was a mere infant. Despite his father's tradgic death, Smithers whanted to do anything for whom most called Mr. Burns. He was not just the loyal assistant that never left his home even after work - He was his best friend... if not his only friend.

But prehaps there was another reason Smithers put up with his daily antics besides that he got lonely and he pittyed him. Deep down, most people in Springfield believed that Smithers was in love with his boss. In fact, everyone in town did believe so, and that Mr. Burns was too self-centered to either notice, or worse, to self centered _to care_.

"Coming sir!" Smithers called out and hurriedly grabbed the newspaper and dashed into his office, handing him the print.

Mr. Burns curled his lip into a cold smile "Excellent. Thank you, Smithers." He praised Smithers and pat him on the head as if she was merely a pet - but he bursted with pride and sat down beside him at his desk.  
After a long pause for his reading, Mr. Burns grimaced at the paper and looked at his assistant with a bitter scowl "This is ridiculous!"

"What is ridiculous?" Smithers asked smoothly, glancing over at him with a confused look on his face.

"This headline: Springfield Elementary; from rags to riches. According to what it says, they found a pipe line that hit an oil leak, and that oil is going to gain them more money than anything this plant could ever imagine." Mr. Burns snarled, slapping a hand on the paper menacingly.

"Well, i suppose we'll just have to work harder." Smithers replied softly as he gathered his clipboard and pencil to report the work of Mr. Burn's employees and stood up, ready to get to work.

"Don't be rediculous!" Mr. Burns snapped, recoiling Smithers back into his seat instantly "I need that oil for myself so i can get that money! If anyone needs it, it's me."

Smithers frowned and opened his mouth to protest, but he closed it again in defeat, not wishing to defy his boss "Yes, sir."

Mr. Burns smiled triumphantly and reclined back on his chair, staring at the servalence moniter on the wall. He whatched for a moment or so before he turned to Smithers and said "Who is that?"

"Who is who?"

"That man right there." Mr. Burns pressed, pointing a bony finger at one of the tiny TV screens showing a man in his tiny office.

"That's Simpson, sir. Homer Simpson from sector 7G." Smithers replied, though he had answered that question many times before. For one reason or another, Mr. Burns could never remember that worker's identity.

"Bring him to my office before you leave, Waylon. I'd like to speak with him." Mr. Burns told him, and Smithers grinned.

"Yes, sir."


	2. Chpt 2 Money making oil

_May 31st, the day before. _

_Location - Springfield Elementary._

"It dosin't seem like this is a leak that cin' be fixed with a simple band-aid, Skinnahs." Grounds-Keeper Willy drawled with an annoyed tone in his heavy scottish accent as the two whatched oil fountain above them in the school basment. The force of the flow of the oil had hit above 4 stories in the buiding and didin't seem to be stopping any time soon.

"This is not good..." Skinners sighed, rubbing his head in frustertation "I have the Board of Education coming today and it could be any time now."

"You mean like right now?"

Skinners spun around and spotted Mr. Fudoid - the head of Trustees for the Education Board. His eyes were narrowed into snake-like slits as he glared at Skinners, whom probably took notice in the oil already.

"When i heard explosion and school, why did i immidiantly think Skinners?" Mr. Fudoid growled in an unimpressed tone, his arms crossed to show agression.

"Mr. Fudoid!" Skinners breathed in a startled tone, his eyes whide "Listen, we did not expect this to happen. The school is usually in great condition!"

"Actually, this oil isin't a bad thing." A voiced stated and they saw a construction worker walk in absently, his eyes fixed on the spill "In fact, it's a _good_ thing.

"How so?" Skinners asked, suprised - though he tried to hide it from Mr. Fudoid.

"This is the same type of oil we use to put in cars and start up many important machines. If you're willing to make an oil company, we will give you all the money you desire that we can give - plus, all the money you earned while in this field of buisness." The construction worker told him.

A smile quickly spread across Skinner's face "Oh, this is wonderfull! I am _very _willing to do so!"

Mr. Fudoid was taken a-back with this, his once enraged glare had turned into a satisfied smile "I knew you'd turn this around, Skinners." He told him, though Skinners knew that he was lying. He didin't care though - he would be able to ease any demands kids and staff asked for.


	3. Chpt 3 Trail of Tears

**I do not own any characters from the Simpsons.**

**Thank you for the reviews and keep them up :3**

**Enjoy.**

_June 1st _

_Location - Mr. Burn's office_

"Smithers! There you are - what took you so long?" Mr. Burns scowled at his assistant only a few minutes after he had left the office to get Homer Simpson for him, and re-entered with the employee nervously following him.

Of corse, shortly after Smithers had left him, Mr. Burns forgot the whole reason Smithers left in the first place, and grew quiet bitter. Beside Smithers was Homer Simpson, holding a half eaten doughnut in his hand - doughnut crumbs and sprinkles still left on his plain white t-shirt.

"Sir, you requested that i bring Mr. Simpson here to your office." Smithers explained, ushering Homer to the seat that faced to his desk.

"I do not remember doing such thing!" Mr. Burns told his assistant impatiently, then glanced at Homer for a moment - and his frusteration was replaced with confusion.

"Smithers - who is this?" Mr. Burns asked, pointing at Homer with a puzzled tone in his voice.

Smithers noticed the once meek look that was held in Homer's face was now quickly replaced with anger at the words Mr. Burns asked to Smithers with a heavy confusion, not at all possible to be fake.

"That's Mr. Simpson, sir. You requested he come to the office, remember?" Smithers pressed, keeping his gaze on Mr. Burns.

"I don't have the slightest idea who this man is. Are you sure he works here?" Mr. Burns asked quizzically, clearly not sure what was going on.

"I am most positive, sir." Smithers replied steadily, never loosing patience with his aging friend.

"Hmph... well, i am not sure how i know you, mister - but whatever you did, you better fix it." Mr. Burns told Homer, who was pretty irritated at this point and stormed out of the room.

Mr. Burns now had a smug grin planted on his face as he rose to his feet and made his way to the window, staring down at Springfield with great triumph. Smithers shortly followed after faithfully, standing sholder to sholder with the older man.

Mr. Burn's eyes were locked on the Springfield Elementary School, the innocence in his face leaving without a trace, shortly followed with a cold heart and plotting mind. Smithers glanced at Mr. Burns and shrunk back slightly, gulping silently.

"Oh Smithers..." Mr. Burns breathed, folding his fingers together "Soon enough, there'll be no one in Springfield who has more power than me."

Smithers frowned, his heart sinking "Sir, listen... maybe this isin't such a hot idea-"

"Oh, but why wouldin't it be?" Mr. Burns asked, turning to Smithers "There is only one thing left to rid of once i get that oil."

"What is that, sir?" Smithers asked weakly, almost reluctant to here what he would say.

"The sun." Mr. Burns said, pointing up at the giant star un-nessasarily.

"...The _WHAT_?"

"The sun, you blithering idiot! Don't you know what that is?" Burns scowled, glaring at Smithers with frustration

"I know what it is, sir!" Smithers sighed, closing his eyes tightly "But what are you getting at?"

Mr. Burns smirked, stepping foreward to the window, pressing his face against the glass childishly, though his face was plastered with an evil darkness "I plan to get rid of the sun. Block the sun from all exsistance - and everyone will have to get energy from us instead."

Smithers stared at Mr. Burns dumbfoundedly, his mouth slightly a-gape as he stared at his boss wtih bewilderment. He tried to think of how to responde to such a remark, but struggled at the thought. What was there _to_ say?

"Don't keep your mouth open like that, you fool! You'll swallow flies." Burns snarled with annoyance, narrowing his eyes.

Smithers immidantly closed his eyes, though his mouth and throat remained dry "Sir, i really think this is a horrible idea."

"Well who needs _your _opinion!" Mr. Burns snapped, narrowing his eyes as he began to approach the young man "Infact - who needs _you_? Smithers, you're fired!"

The last 3 words buzzed in Smither's mind like a ticked off bee threatening to sting. No... he coudlin't have. It must be a mistake.

"...What?" Smithers rasped, his skin turning a pale yellow.

"You heard me, you dolt - you're _fired_!" Mr. Burns repeated, whatching with pleasure as he shrunk back in sheer pain, like he had slapped him across the face.

Smithers stared at Mr. Burns, though his face held no emotion - his heart was shattering into a million tiny fragments deep down. He bit his lip, stopping it from trembling and closed his eyes to hide the tears welding in his eyes "Fff- FINE!" Smithers managed to squeak out, gulping and storming out of the room, leaving a trail of tears behind him.

Mr. Burns whatched as Smithers left from eye-view, his eyes trailing to the tears that were left on the floor. Mr. Burns stared at the tears for a while before turning away to his desk, muttering "What's eating at _him_?"

**There's part 3, enjoy.**


	4. Chpt 4 Eclipse

**I do not own any characters from the Simpsons.**

**Thank you for the reviews and keep them up :3**

**Enjoy.**

_June 4th_

_Location - TownHall_

Smithers dragged himself to the townhall, clutching to a beer bottle in one hand and a hand gun in his other. His glasses were slightly lopsided and his suit coat was on inside out, though his tie was messed up as if blown by a tornado storm. Anyone from even a quite far distance could smell him, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. His body ached all over, but his heart ached worse - for it had been already been 3 days since Mr. Burns had fired him. Yes, this was a dark plague that haunted his sleepless nights just merely thinking about it.

Though despite the heartahe he got put through, Mr. Burns was still his love.

He stumbled into the crowded meeting room, coughing as he slumped on a seat amongst the crowd. He spotted the Princapal of Springfield Elementary School, a dark anger masking his aged face.

He also noticed Homer Simpson and his family. Homer was boiling with anger for one reason or another. Lisa was holding a firm poise, though her tiny hands were clutched into small tight fists. Despite his father and younger sister's mad expressions, Bart seemed to look quite sullen - his head hung and his eyes locked on his feet.

Moe, the local bartender, was clutching to a gun furiously - as if ready to fire at will. Barney Grumble was also anger-struck, stroking a hand gun as if longingly.

Grounds-keeper Willy was beside Skinners, also holding a gun - though he looked as if he could knock out anyone if he whanted to easily with his bare fists.

Smithers sighed shakily, holding back the tears that longed to spill out and stain his coat. His head was pounding and he was heavily drunk - so most of everything would be forgotten the next day.

The mayor - Mayor Quimby - walked up to the podium along side his wife Martha Quimby, and a handfull of gaurds shadowed behind them.

Though the mayor had just stepped up on stage, everyone was still buzzing with discussion.

"Attention!" Quimby spoke into the microphone and the noice slowly simmered down as they drew their attention to their mayor.

"I know we are all fairly mad at Mr. Burns - i am myself, but this is no reason for violence. I have written a kind apology letter-" He held up an envolope in his hands as he said this "-And everything will be okay."  
Dead silence misted the hall and everyone stared at Quimby, either unimpressed or bewildered.

A gaurd walked over to Quimby and swiftly whispered something in his ear and took his position back behind him once more.

"Oh - and it has been brought to my attention that a large number of you are possesing loaded guns..." Quimby said, slightly shaken as he said so "So... i leave the speaking to you all." He said and ran off the stage, dragging his wife with him.

Smithers was not sure what posessed him to stand up and have his say - prehaps the mere drunk side of him was taking over - but either way, he slowly stood up, swaying slightly and said in a quivering drunken voice "Mr. Burns was the cloesest thing i ever had to a..." He stopped midway, though most might believe it was to hiccup - it was because he almost said 'boyfriend' and he corrected himself, concealing his feelings for his old boss once more "...A friend. And... and he _fired_ me! Now i have nothing left to do but smoke and drink booze and whatch... ComedyCenteral."

"Oh dear god!" Smithers could here someone gasp at those words not too far from him.

Smiters ignored the other side remarks the other troubled citizens made, and because he was too drunk to think about anything but Mr. Burns - but soon enough, Bart caught his attention after he said wearily "Look what he did to my best friend!"

Everyone turned and faced Millhouse, who was eating cheesepuffs covered in the powdery substance, and everyone gasped.

"No, my dog!" Bart said and pointed to Santa's-Little-Helper, who was in a cast and wheel to help him move along. The dog slowly made his way over to his owner and pawed at him sadly.

An icey cackle broke the silence in the crowd, and everyone turned and faced the door as they saw Mr. Burns stand in the door way, a devious grin spreading across his face.

"The wheel sounds a bit squeaky. Why not get some oil from me and my new company for your little... meat-sausage." Mr. Burns cracked wickedly, his eyes narrowed though they danced with amusement.

Santa's-Little-Helper snarled viciously at the old man and Bart yelled to Mr. Burns "You evil, evil monster!".

Bart ran to him to inflict harm apon him, though immidiantly, Mr. Burns opened a side of his suit-coat, revealing a gun being held on a holster that wrapped around him and Bart skidded to a halt.

Mr. Burns grinned, wagging a bony finger at him in disaproval "I've armed myself ever since an anonymous citizen broke into my office and pladgerised the walls."

Somewere in the crowd, Smithers could make out a faint "D'oh!"

The crowd slowly inched their way to Mr. Burns - those who were armed, cocked their guns so they were aimed at him.

"Now, now. You cannot arrest me - you _need _me. What will happen to the power without me?" Mr. Burns asked slyly, as if he had planned everything he said.

The crowd stopped, and the guns lowered, knowing that he was right.

Mr. Burns turned his heel and began to walk off, but before doing so - he turned his head slightly and added "Oh, and before i go - have any of you seen the sun set at... 3 PM?"

Smithers knew this ment something he knew ahead of time - but he could not remember being in his drunken state.

"Yes! Once. When i was sailing-" An older sailor man began but Mr. Burns quickly innurupted him

"Shut up!" Mr. Burns snarled in an annoyed tone, then drew his direction to the matter at hand "I am blocking the sun from beaming down apon us, so everyone will have to use electricity... which means more money for me."

Everyone stared at each other in disbeleif, as if they could not imagine him doing so.

Mr. Burns chuckled darkly, pressing a hand-held button - and sure enough, a giant fan-shaped invention slowly but surely covered the sun - leaving Springfield in a night tinted darkness.

As Mr. Burns left the astonished group, Smithers and a few other people began to inch their way out the door, most of which were holding guns. Smithers ignored them, grasping the gun in his own hand.

Looking up at the starless sky, Smithers let tears fall down silently - and he made his way around Springfield in an eerey silence.

_June 4th (Moments later)_

_Location - Out and about Springfield_

_Marge made her way to her car, holding Maggie close to her in protection. Shortly following behind was Santa's-Little-Helper. She buckled Maggie into her car-seat and helped the dog into the seat beside her._

_After closing the passanger car door, she glanced around, frowing "Wait - where's Homer, Bart, Lisa and Grandpa Simpson?"_

_Carl - who was about to leave the townhall - turned to his seat to gather his belongings, when noticed Mr. Smither's suit-coat left on his chair, abandond "That's odd..." He remarked as he picked it up "Smithers forgot his coat." He turned and noticed something elles "An' Skinners left his mother!"_

_A panic struck prison gaurd ran to Cheif Wiggum, panting as he tried to think of his words "Cheif, someone exaped from Springfield Prison!" _

_Cheif Wiggum whidened his eyes, dropping his coffee on the ground acidently in result of suprise "Dear god - who?"_

_"Sideshow Bob, Cheif!" the gaurd reported, worry silking in his voice._

_"Send out all police officals for a search - who knows what could happen." Wiggum told him, jumping to his police car and blaring his siren._

A joy filled Monty Burns skipped out of Townhall, spinning around in glee as he whatched the darkened skies above him. Smiling, as if proud of his work. He hugged a lamp-post, stroking it "Hello, Mr. Lamp!" He laughed.

As he made his way around the dim lighten town of Springfield, he skidded to a halt - for he had found something that pleased him.

_"Oh, hello - it's you! What're you so happy about?_

_Oh... i see._

_Well, it's mine now._

_No-Give it to me! I...said...GIVE IT TO ME!"_

**BAM**

A shot rolled through the sky, stabbing the silence like a knife. After the sound faded away, silence etched the town - leaving no trace of the thunderous tremble.

Marge spun around, having been searching around Springfield for her family - her heart beating against her chest heavily in fear - not exactly clear on what happened just then.

Soon after, Marge spotted Mr. Burns clutching to his chest with a pain-filled expression sogging in his weak face, stumbling about feebly.

"Woah, pops - you okay?" A rebellious teen asked, whatching the helpless Mr. Burns.

"I'm..." Mr. Burns rasped, sputtering for air "Not going to dignify that remark with an answer."

Mr. Burns fumbled around some more before landing on the sun-dial in surrender of his pain, blood dripping from his chest slowly.

Marge began to make her way over to the wounded veteran and soon after - a crowd began to form around him.

Officer Cheif Wiggum skidded his police car to an arrupt hault, quickly scrambling out of the car and pushing his way past the crowd, making his over to Mr. Burns.

"What happened?" Wiggum breathed whatching Mr. Burns slowly bleed more and more...

"This is going to a tough crime to solve." Marge muttered, closing her eyes

"_Everyone's a suspect."_

**There's part 4, enjoy.**


	5. Chpt 5 Hang Over

**I do not own any characters from the Simpsons.**

**Thank you for the reviews and keep them up :3**

**Enjoy.**

_June 5th_

_Location - The Simpson home_

It was early morning in Springfield now, and most of the Simpson family expected golden rays of sunlight to beam down from their windowsills to greet them to be awake - and it seemed to puzzle them at first why the morning didin't wake them as usual, but as they brushed their drowzyness off like dust, they remembered that the sun was blocked.

Slowly but surely, the Simpson family began to gather downstairs for their regular morning routines. Marge huttled at the stove and began to make breakfast for her family, with Maggie whatching on a booster-seat at the tabel with curious round eyes.

The dull and bleak lights from the lamposts outside seemed to gleam on the glasses Marge used for her family to drink from, almost resembling a sullen moon.

Marge had found her husband, children and Grandpa - though none of them spoke about the shooting that accured the day before, which only shaded Marge's thoughts about one of them being a potential suspect.

Soon enough, the Simpson family was all in the kitchen eating breakfast in a shadowed silence. The silence was innurupted once Lisa dropped her fork from her meal, clearing her throat

"You know, i think all of us in Springfield have a good reason to've shot Mr. Burns."

Marge ignored the knot that pitted in her stomache nervously at those words, and chose to listen on instead.

"Bart - he hurt your pet and loved companion, and you told Santa's-Little-Helper you'd hurt whomever caused this apon him. Grandpa, Mr. Burn's crumbled your home with his construction - and dad, you kind of threw a fit when he couldin't remember your name." Lisa said and she speckled her golden eggs with salt.

"And i had a damned good reason to!" Homer protested, standing to his feet as if to make his point - but surely enough was quickly distracted "Oooh - can someone pass the iced-tea?"

"Yeah, and what about you... _sister-suspect_?" Bart edged icely and Lisa tittered nervously.

"Sure, i have a great reason too - i was just about to mention myself. I mean, because of Mr. Burns, my dream of owning a jazz class in school is demolished." Lisa said, a strong bitter tone coming suddenly, but she smiled again and said in a sweeter tone "But i couldin't have possibly shot him."

"Could so."

"Could not."

"Could so!"

"COULD NOT!" 

"Stop it you two - in my eyes, you're _both _potential suspects." Homer said reasuringly, ignoring the glare Marge gave him.

Bart dropped his fork with a clatter, scooting his chair away from him as he rose to his feet "Well, i am taking a walk."

Without asking to be excused from the tabel, Bart left the home - making his way through the cold dark streets of Springfield.

_June, 5th_

_Location - Smither's appartment_

Pain throbbed all over Smither's body once he slowly awoke on his apartment couch, sprawled out in an uncomfortable position he had been in the night before. He didin't wish to open his eyes, afraid of what he could have done to his apartment the night he was drunk.

His mouth was strangely dry, and his throat begged for water - scourging in a burning pain that plagued him - and his left hand felt oddly numb, as if he could not feel it at all.

Reluctantly, he slowly opened his eyes to narrow slits, though everything was a blurr seeming his glasses were abandond elleswhere on the floor. Smithers thumbled around for them and finally put them on, coughing hoarsley.

The apartment was shadowed with an eerey dull darkness - for the lights were not on and with no sun for support. He flicked the lights on and felt his heart sink as he studied his utterly destroyed room, prehaps a result of a possbile drunken rage he might hae been in.

Everything was a fog in Smither's mind, and for some strange reason - his thoughts were ringing on about Burns in his shower - and Speedway Racing in color.

Struggling to push these strange thoughts aside, he searched amongst the broken remains of his belongings, taking his TV remote with his good hand. After positioning himself back on the couch, he drew his attention to his left hand and he gasped in horror.

His hand was painted with dried blood and peices of glass from a beer bottle were stuck in his hand - showing that he wounded himself the night before.

As he picked the glass absently from his hand, he changed the TV channel to the news station - where a story was titled "Breaking News".

The newsreporter rambled on about Mr. Burns, and how the night before - someone had shot Mr. Burns. Mr. Burns was taken to a hospital where he was pronounced dead -

Smithers shrieked, ignoring the pain after doing so - tears welding in his eyes in shock of the news, but settled down once the man shortly after reported he was shortly after was sent to a different ER where they said, he was still alive.

Smithers strained as hard as he could to remember what could have possibly happened the night before, wondering who in the right mind would hurt him, though he reminded himself he was the only one who cared deeply for Mr. Burns.

But to no avail, Smithers turned the TV off, quivering in sadness pathetically and he rose to his feet, searching for his suit-coat.

But his coat was nowhere to be found. Cursing, he chose a different coat, stumbling out of the ruins of his house.

_June 5th_

_Location - Springfield Park_

Bart allowed his sneakers scuff at the rubble below him as he entered Springfield's park, letting pebbles skid away as he did so. The sun had come back soon after Bart ventured out of the house, seeming a couple of men decided to destroy the clever machine Mr. Burns made.

The park was only reserved by a few other citizens, most in which huttled together, whispering in tight voices about the only news they could share about - the shooting.

Bart gulped nervously and sat down on a park bench, swinging his legs to distract himself. Though he was present at the time, his mind waundered of with thoughts of what happened the night before - and what could happen.

Bart nearly shrieked when he heard a greeting innurupt his daydream. Though still dwelling apon his thoughts, He glanced up and spotted the radiant Jessica Lovejoy whom stared at him with a seeminly innocent amusement.

Her midnight colored hair glistened almost angelicly under the golden rays of the sun, though Bart reminded himself of her dangers - keeping himself alert.

"Hi Bart." She repeated, a laugh lingering in her voice as she sat beside him on the bench.

"Hi Jess." He answered shortly, trying hard to avoid her as much as he could. Bart had dated this pretty faced daught of the priest before, which nearly lead him into danger several times.

"What's wrong, Bart - nervous? I would be too about the whole shooting last night." Jessica said, her voice almost sing-song. She swung her legs that dangled from the bench playfully, humming a tune as she did so.

"I am not!" Bart said defensivly, though deep down he was very scared - though for a slightly different reason.

Jessica laughed, whatching as Bart struggled to resist her beauty and elegance "You know, anyone could have done it - i mean, that person could be in this very park _right now_."

"Who the hell cares about this whole thing anyways?" Bart said, pushing back the fear that began to rise in him "Everyone was mad at Burns anyways - why do we care that someone shot him?"  
"Good point." Jessica nodded, her hair tumbling to her sholders as she did so. She bit her lower lip in thought, staring up at the sky above them.

Bart sighed, turning his head away from her slightly. Wishing everything that happened the night before never happened all together.

**There's part 5, enjoy.**


	6. Chpt 6 Flamming Cards

**I do not own any characters from the Simpsons.**

**Enjoy.**

_June 5th_

_Location - Police Station_

Once the sun came back in Springfield, things became very hot and sticky, leaving dry air hanging in the Police station - As though the tension didin't already help the heat buslting in the room itself. ceiling fans circulated above them, thought it did nothing more but stirr up the stale air.

There was no police officer that had no task to tend to, between the frantic search of the jail excapee Sideshow Bob - and the mystery of who shot Mr. Burns, though none of them were even close to wrapping up.

Cheif Wiggum was mainly focusing on the shooting, making Sideshow Bob a possible suspect seeming he excaped the night of the event. The door opened slowly and revealed Waylon Smithers - who looked better kept than the night before, though his left hand was laced with bandages.

"Ah, Smithers - what's up?" Wiggum asked, leaning back lazily in his office chair.

"Listen, Mr. Burns is my best friend and i whant to help out with the case." Smithers told him, worry weighing in his voice as he said so.

"Well, of corse you can help, Smithers." Wiggum said with a slight smile, reaching for a day old doughnut being held in a package "Being the one most close to Burns, i am sure you'll be of great use."

Smithers sighed, smiling as he sat down beside Wiggum "So who are the suspects so far, Cheif?"

"Well, so far we have Skinners - who lost his oil money thanks to Burns, Moe the bartender - who lost his job thanks the fumes that came from Mr. Burn's buiding, Barney Grumble - who has no bar to get drunk at, Most of the Simpsons for various reasons... and Sideshow Bob, who excaped on the night of the shooting." Wiggum said and began to eat the doughnut, crumbs sprinkling onto his uniform absently.

"This is going to take a while - i just know it." Smithers sighed, sagging his sholders in defeat.

"Well, right now, some police officers are questioning Skinners right as we speak - and Moe should be coming any time now."

Moments after Wiggum spoke this, a police officer dragged an enraged Moe - who was screaming to be let down.

He threw the man onto the ground and he stumbled to his feet, glaring at Smithers and Wiggum.

"What the hell am i doing here?" Moe asked bitterly, looking around frantically, as if for an exit.

"Just sit down right here and let me apply this machine on yeh..." Wiggum said calmly, strapping Moe onto a chair and setting him up in a lie detector.

"Now... where you there on the night of Burn's shooting?"  
"No." Moe replied, but the machine buzzed in protest against his answer "Okay-Okay-I was!" Ding! The machine aproved.

"Did you shoot Mr. Burns?"

"No." Ding!

"Alright, Moe - you're free to go." Wiggum told him gently and Moe sighed with annoyance.

"Good - cause i got a hot date tonight." Moe said and the machine buzzed, proving him wrong.

"Eh... blind date." Bzzz

"Dinner at home." Bzzz

"TV alone." Bzzz

"Okay Okay!" Moe said in defeat, annoyed at the machine "I am staying home and oggling at the girls in Victoria's Secret catalogs!"

Bzzz

Moe suddenly looked puzzled at this, tilting his head then sighed, hanging his head "...Sears catalogs." Ding!

_June 5th (A few hours later)_

_Location - Police Station_

After long exausting hours slaving over suspect over suspect, the mystery of Mr. Burns was still as unclear as it was when it first occured.

Moe and Skinners were proven to be innocent first and they soon figured out that Barney, Lisa and Homer were also innocent - though things were still unclear.

Cheif Wiggum was exsausted and alone, having Smithers continue for suspects with the other police men. Wiggum could not stand the heat that dragged him in his thoughts down, deciding to drink some coffee... but because there was none left, he decided to drink warm cream instead.

Shortly after, the cream settled in with the heat, lulling him to sleep.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a rather large room that strongly resembled that of a checker board. He was still in his office chair though, nibbling at a doughnut in his hands.

The door swung open and Lisa Simpson walked in backwards, a blank yet confused look plastered on her face. Wiggum whatched the strange girl in wonder, as she aproached him - turning to face him. She opened her mouth and he realised she was going to speak to him.

"Wiggum Don't Eat The Clues." Lisa said in a disoriented voice, making Wiggum feel lost. What did she mean?

His hands suddenly felt rather warm and he glanced at the doughnut that was in his hands, but the doughnut was no longer there. The doughnut was replaced by a card that was litteraly burning slowly with a tiny flame at the top.

Wiggum whanted to scream, startled - but nothing came out. He merely glanced at Lisa, as if prehaps she would explain this. But she did not help, and merely picked up a different card that was also aflame.

"Look." She said, pointing at the card "This Suit Burns Better."

Wiggum stared at Lisa, for she was only making things even more confusing. What was she attempting to say?

"Suit Burns Better LOOK." Lisa repeated, frantically pointing at the burning card in attempt to make a message clear.

Still, Wiggum did not understand.

"Burn's Suit! Burn's Suit!" Lisa tried, her voice struggling with annoyance.

Wiggum arched an eye-brow at her.

"_LOOK AT BURN'S SUIT!_ SHEESH!" Lisa shouted finally.

Snapping awake, Wiggum yelped. He glanced around nervously, panting as he did so and sighed with relief, finding him back at the police station.

A police officer walked over to him, glancing at Wiggum "Cheif, Smithers has an idea - what if we look at Mr. Burn's suit for any clues."

Wiggum smiled, realising his dream was telling him to do the same thing "Did he have the same dream with the backwards talking people and burning cards?" He asked excitedly.

"Uhm, maybe i should drive." The Police man muttered, helping Wiggum up on his feet.

_June 5th_

_Location - ER_

The doctors working at the emergency room gave the suit coat to the police and they got an expert to study any evidence that might be found on the clothing.

Smithers begged Wiggum to go see Mr. Burns to check on how he was doing, but Wiggum refused him to do so untill they figured out everything.

muttering, Smithers left to use the bathroom in the next room.

The expert attempted to make out a stand of DNA found on the coat, but told Wiggum they could not figure out for prehaps a year.

Frusterated, Wiggum lingered in the room longer - searching through all the possible suspects left in the case.

Breaking his thoughts, a doctor rushed in energetically "Guys! Burns is awake! And he the first thing he said was 'Homer Simpson'!"

Smiles spreaded across the police men as they scrambled out of the ER to the parking lot.

Moments later, Smithers left the bathroom - unaware of what happened. Glancing around, he noticed there was no police men in sight and he smiled, making his way over to Mr. Burn's hospital room, hoping to comfort his beloved friend.

**There's part 6, enjoy.**


End file.
